Reflection
Helga looked at herself in the mirror.
She'd seen him again today, this time he was with Lilla, fawning over her as usual when he'd seen her. Except he hadn't seen her, he'd seen the person she'd shown to everyone since she was three. That had never happened before. Usually he saw right through her tough girl fascade, but this time it was as if he'd given up.
It hurt.
It hurt to think that the only person who'd actually cared, excluding Pheobe, had given up on her. She'd wanted to sink into the ground when he'd given her the same look he gave everyone else, his "oh, hi," look and not his "I can see right though you, Helga," look. It had just about broken her heart. It would have if she wasn't Helga and if Pheobe, seeing a potential break down, hadn't gotten her out of the crowded hallways at Hillwood High and into the girls bathroom, where she could hyperventilate in peace.
Pheobe didn't ask what had happened because everyone had seen it. Everyone knew Helga and Arnold had a special connection. Whether it was bully/victim no one really cared, the point is there was a connection and it seemed that Arnold had just severed it. Whatever way he usally looked at her was no longer there. It was as if she was just another friend, just another face.
As soon as Helga was done hyperventilating and crying Pheobe led Helga home and put her to bed, acting as if Helga could shatter at any minute, which was in fact the case. As soon as Pheobe had left to go back to school after gently telling her to rest, Helga had pulled herself out of bed and gone through all of her stuff that she'd accumulated of Arnold over the years. Somewhere between the gum and the diary, she'd picked up a mirror which is what she was looking in now. The mirror was broken, little spider lines ran through it so that one part of her face was warped and the other wasn't. It reminded her of her life. The way she loved Arnold and tormented him. A sweet side and a mean side. A vunerable side and a barrier to sheild her against any more hurt. . . . . . . . . . . . . a normal side and a warped side.
The mirror crashed against the floor and she rocked back and forth crying. She sat there so long she didn't realize there was someone rocking with her holding her tightly as if she would splinter apart if they loosened up even a bit. She supposed it might be true. She knew she was unbalanced, with the life she had anyone would be. No one ever comforted her. She was only the second child. Silver to gold. Helga to Olga. Never able to messure up, never able to take pride in what she did. It was no wonder after she realized someone was actually comforting her that she started crying harder and couldn't seem to stop. She thought maybe she never would.
She did eventually but by that time all the rocking had put her to sleep. When she did finally wake up she could feel something warming her back, she turned into it and came face to face with Arnold . They sat up slowly still facing each other. She realized that though she was broken like the mirror she could fix herself. She opened her mouth to tell him, but he just shook his head and her mouth snapped shut. He took her in his arms, lay back down, and kissed her forehead. And right before she subcumbed to an exhasted sleep she realized that maybe she was the mirror, but it was who she was and maybe he didn't think she was broken, maybe to him she was just Helga. And with that final thought before she faded into unconsciousness, she fixed herself.
Helga looked at herself in the mirror.
She'd seen him again today, this time he was with Lilla, fawning over her as usual when he'd seen her. Except he hadn't seen her, he'd seen the person she'd shown to everyone since she was three. That had never happened before. Usually he saw right through her tough girl fascade, but this time it was as if he'd given up.
It hurt.
It hurt to think that the only person who'd actually cared, excluding Pheobe, had given up on her. She'd wanted to sink into the ground when he'd given her the same look he gave everyone else, his "oh, hi," look and not his "I can see right though you, Helga," look. It had just about broken her heart. It would have if she wasn't Helga and if Pheobe, seeing a potential break down, hadn't gotten her out of the crowded hallways at Hillwood High and into the girls bathroom, where she could hyperventilate in peace.
Pheobe didn't ask what had happened because everyone had seen it. Everyone knew Helga and Arnold had a special connection. Whether it was bully/victim no one really cared, the point is there was a connection and it seemed that Arnold had just severed it. Whatever way he usally looked at her was no longer there. It was as if she was just another friend, just another face.
As soon as Helga was done hyperventilating and crying Pheobe led Helga home and put her to bed, acting as if Helga could shatter at any minute, which was in fact the case. As soon as Pheobe had left to go back to school after gently telling her to rest, Helga had pulled herself out of bed and gone through all of her stuff that she'd accumulated of Arnold over the years. Somewhere between the gum and the diary, she'd picked up a mirror which is what she was looking in now. The mirror was broken, little spider lines ran through it so that one part of her face was warped and the other wasn't. It reminded her of her life. The way she loved Arnold and tormented him. A sweet side and a mean side. A vunerable side and a barrier to sheild her against any more hurt. . . . . . . . . . . . . a normal side and a warped side.
The mirror crashed against the floor and she rocked back and forth crying. She sat there so long she didn't realize there was someone rocking with her holding her tightly as if she would splinter apart if they loosened up even a bit. She supposed it might be true. She knew she was unbalanced, with the life she had anyone would be. No one ever comforted her. She was only the second child. Silver to gold. Helga to Olga. Never able to messure up, never able to take pride in what she did. It was no wonder after she realized someone was actually comforting her that she started crying harder and couldn't seem to stop. She thought maybe she never would.
She did eventually but by that time all the rocking had put her to sleep. When she did finally wake up she could feel something warming her back, she turned into it and came face to face with Arnold . They sat up slowly still facing each other. She realized that though she was broken like the mirror she could fix herself. She opened her mouth to tell him, but he just shook his head and her mouth snapped shut. He took her in his arms, lay back down, and kissed her forehead. And right before she subcumbed to an exhasted sleep she realized that maybe she was the mirror, but it was who she was and maybe he didn't think she was broken, maybe to him she was just Helga. And with that final thought before she faded into unconsciousness, she fixed herself.